If you mosey on over to Bobby Jamieson’s article about leading the church in the Lord’s Supper, you’ll hear about the tear in his eye when he reads Jesus’ Last Supper words about drinking with us anew in the Father’s kingdom. “The Supper is a foretaste of the heavenly banquet,” Bobby will tell the congregation. The words get caught in his throat, he says.
Bobby is a lot godlier than I am.
While he’s tearing up, I confess I’m sitting in the pew listening to those same words about a “foreshadow” (or as Mark Dever says, “a preview”); I’m looking down at the little cracker that tastes like rubber and the snap-in-my-fingers plastic cup of watered-down grape juice which scarcely wets my whole mouth; and I’m sighing to myself, “Really? This is the foreshadow? I hope the messianic banquet is a whole lot better than this!”
As I said, Bobby’s mind is on higher things.
Then again maybe there’s a good reason for both the tear and the sigh. The tear is hope for what’s to come? And the sigh is the recognition that it’s not here yet?
I’m about to argue that your local church is an embassy and the temporary
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